Interlude
by Hope Meijer
Summary: "Why are you in my house - and, more importantly - my bed?"


_Author's Note: My, aren't you lucky? I seem to be on a sudden roll of inspiration. I don't know how long ago this little interlude occurred to me, but it's sat in my notebook until I found it recently and typed it up. Enjoy. :)_

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><p>INTERLUDE<p>

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><p>He moved silently through the house, setting his bags down by the door and removing his shoes and jacket as he went. He didn't want to turn any lights on in case a neighbour was looking – he wanted a lie-in the next morning and if she saw he was back tonight there was every chance he'd be woken at the crack of dawn by her homecoming offerings at his door.<p>

His socks, belt and shirt went next, thrown somewhere in the vicinity of the lounge, and the trousers were pulled off when he dug through the laundry to replace them with well-worn sweats and an old t-shirt.

Feeling more relaxed, he stepped into the bedroom –

- And froze, instincts honed in the field screaming at him that there was an intruder.

He moved towards the bed, the dim light filtering on through the curtains from the street lamp outside allowing him to see the vague shape of a body curled up under the covers. He grinned, sliding between the sheets and relaxing instantly when a warm, sleepy body shifted in his direction.

"You're back."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Indeed."

"Mmm." She rolled over and he curled his arms around her lithe body, marvelling at the fact that he _could_, and no one could stop him any more.

"Why are you in my house – and, more importantly – my bed?" He spoke whilst simultaneously taking a deep breath and inhaling her scent.

"You told me to move in."

"I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it." But he felt a small thrill that she felt comfortable enough with the idea of _them_ to do so, and had waited until he was back in Washington to surprise him upon his return. Although his return had been scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but he'd got fed up and hopped in the first flight back that day.

"My house is big. And empty," she mumbled as he stroked her hair.

"So's mine," he countered, loving the way she could hold a half-decent (or at least intelligible) conversation even when she was technically dozing.

"But it smells like you."

And there it was; the genius logic that only she could produce half-asleep and still sound like a rational argument. He had long since learned to go with the flow; if it made sense to her then that was all that mattered. "Where's your car?"

She huffed mildly, perhaps wishing he would shut up and let her cuddle back to sleep, and he grinned.

Sleepy-Genius was so much more fun than Normal-Genius.

"Home. Caught a cab."

"Why not get one of the boys to drop you off?"

"Jaaack. Go to sleep."

He dropped a kiss on her forehead, realising any more enjoyable teasing on his part would equal Grumpy-Genius tomorrow morning, homecoming or not.

"Night Sam."

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><p>He'd settled down enough to be slipping into a doze when he was startled awake by an insistent ringing. Blindly reaching out for the bedside cabinet, he grabbed the offending phone and hoped to God there wasn't an emergency anywhere on Earth or in the universe.<p>

"O'Neill."

"...Jack?"

He blearily recognised Daniel's voice and sighed. "Do you know any other O'Neill?"

"Ah...sorry. I must have hit your number. I meant to call Sam."

"'Kay. Bye."

"Sorry Jack. Night."

He dropped it back onto the cabinet and let out a sigh, rolling over to snuggle back up to Sam's body. Her steady breathing lulled him into a doze and he found himself slipping back into the comforting darkness...

...Until the silence was shattered again, by the same phone. Allowing a small grin at the muffled curse that sounded from Sam's side of the bed, he picked it up and answered it.

"What?"

There was a pause, and Daniel's voice sounded again. "...Okay, this time I _know_ I dialled Sam's number."

"Daniel, why are you calling at," here he checked the clock by the bed, then blinked and checked it again, "two thirty in the morning?"

"I could ask you why you're answering Sam's phone at two thirty in the morning."

"Daniel..." Beside him, Sam stirred and then grabbed the phone from his hand, answering it with a rather husky voice.

"Go to bed, Daniel."

"Sam? Why is Jack answering your phone? Isn't he in DC?"

"I have the weekend off and I don't want to be disturbed until Monday morning, barring any universal catastrophes that need my expertise."

"But..."

"Good _night_, Daniel." And she hung up in the middle of his protests. Switching the phone off, she sent a meaningful glance in Jack's direction and dropped it over the side of the bed.

"Point taken," he grinned, and closed his eyes, arms automatically tugging her to him.

There went the secrecy in their relationship.


End file.
